


different kind of high

by yanak324



Series: say something like you love me [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aged up characters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Light Angst, Rickon is studying in Skagos and Lyanna comes to see him, Shower Sex, almost zero plot, but lots of kissing and other things, dirty talking, first time lovers, lots of feelings, lots of sexiness, not a whole lot of talking, prequel to a friends to lovers oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24290308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanak324/pseuds/yanak324
Summary: Nothing about her has ever made sense to him and this is no different. He lets it wash over him, the warmth of her gaze, the conviction in her voice, and his hand is already tangling in her hair when he pulls her into a heated kiss.Rickon, Lyanna, and the start of something new.
Relationships: Lyanna Mormont/Rickon Stark
Series: say something like you love me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753555
Comments: 31
Kudos: 25





	1. a rush of blood is not enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fineosaur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fineosaur/gifts).
  * Inspired by [pieces of you stuck on me (but i'm careless and i'm wicked)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23403709) by [fineosaur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fineosaur/pseuds/fineosaur). 



> For my dearest Ran, who wields a special kind of power that has me falling in love with a rarepair and abandoning all my writing responsibilities to write smutty goodness. This is so you're not the only one writing for this unbelievably enticing rarepair <3 
> 
> Title inspired by i dare you by the xx; as always, I own nothing. Enjoy xoxo.

The apartment is silent and dark when Rickon lets them in, signaling that neither of his roommates is home. 

Lyanna seems to pick up on it as well. The second they have their coats and shoes off, she’s pinning him to the wall, mouth finding his easily in the dark. 

“Fuck, Lya –“ 

His cold fingers trace up her face, throwing her beanie off and burying themselves in her hair as he tries to catch a breath between kisses. 

She doesn’t let up, pressing herself against him like she can’t quite get enough. It’s very much mutual and the next time her tongue slides against his, hands digging into his sides to keep him firmly between herself and the wall, Rickon tears his lips away from hers. 

They breathe heavily together, pants in the otherwise silent hallway, and he wishes he could see her eyes, those warm chocolate pools that seem to be the only salve he needs these days. 

All he can see though is the outline of her face, messy strands of hair, tangled from his fingers and before she can distract him again, he tugs her along.

“C’mon.” 

She goes willingly, hand firmly wrapped in his; warm breath at his back that does nothing to quell the frenzy starting to brew inside him. 

He knows they’re about to cross a line that he’s not sure he’ll ever come back from but all he can think about is that she came here for him. She’s here because she wants to be, and he’s not going to think about anything else. 

The rest of the world will just have to wait. 

They’re barely inside his room when Lyanna is on him again, tracing the seam of his lips with her tongue just before slipping it inside and rendering him completely useless. 

Her hands aren’t much better, slinking down his chest and slipping underneath his sweater, eager to rid him of it. Her mouth isn't either, trailing kisses down his jaw to his neck and then across his shoulders as she keeps him in place. He can feel himself growing uncomfortably hard the more time she spends tracing her tongue along his skin, teeth nipping and biting with a confidence that tests all his restraint. 

“Lya…” 

It’s a last stitch attempt to get her attention, to get her to slow down maybe, but she either doesn’t hear him or more likely doesn’t _want_ to hear him, because then she’s palming him through his jeans and looking up at him with a challenge in her dark eyes, and Rickon forgets what restraint is altogether. 

A frustrated growl slips out of him as he walks her straight back into the door and lifts her against it. 

When he catches a hint of a self-satisfied smile, he wonders if maybe this was her intention all along. To activate that ferocity inside him that she thinks has made him so at home on this half-frozen island.

He shoves the thought away, much more interested in tracking the shift of her face as he gruffly tells her to hold on and slides one hand underneath her top. Her skin is soft, so impossibly soft, and when he finds her breast, nipple beaded and tight even through the flimsy material of her bra, he presses on it hard.

“Rickon.” 

Her hand is in his hair suddenly, drawing him up to meet her eyes. 

“What?” he asks her sharply, a groan reaching from deep within his throat as he feels her nails scratch at his scalp, “what do you want?” 

Her breath is heavy but voice clear and on point even though he’s got his whole hand on her tit now, squeezing, pressing, unable to get enough. 

“You naked, inside me. Can you do that?” 

He doesn’t bother answering her, even though it’s all he’s thought about since he’d picked her up from the train station days ago. He finds a better use for his mouth, leaning up to kiss her again and then begrudgingly abandoning his pawing to move them to his bed. 

A sliver of moonlight spills across her chest when he lays her down and for a moment, all Rickon can do is drink her in. At some point, she’d taken her top off, and her skin glints like porcelain against his dark sheets. 

He pushes her legs apart as he settles between them, hands tracing the hem of her thick leggings before pulling them down her legs. He takes her underwear too, and Lyanna doesn’t seem to mind, gaze heavy and intent on him as he slides the material off and throws it on the floor.

“Take your bra off.”

Her eyebrow rises at the suggestion but she doesn’t make him wait, arching her back to unclasp the bralette and then she’s completely naked in front of him. If that weren’t bad enough, she pulls her legs up and spreads them wide, feet planted firmly on the bed as she drags a hand across her sternum. 

“I thought you were supposed to be the one getting naked.” 

Her comment only spurs him further, hand reaching to tug her to the edge of the bed as he drops to his knees; now determined to make sure she doesn’t have the wherewithal to tease him anymore. 

“In due time.” 

He presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh, and whatever protest she might have dies on her lips as he slides two fingers up her center, groaning with her when he feels just how drenched she is. 

“Remind me why weren’t we doing this before?” 

He doesn’t expect her to answer, especially not with how high her hips shoot up off the bed when he teases her slit, but she surprises him as always. 

“’Cause we were stupid.” 

Her voice is strained though, no longer the confident edge to it, and he smirks against her skin, lips trailing up her thigh as he starts to rub at her – letting her movements guide him. 

He’s drunk on the feeling, on the scent of her, on how she seems to follow the path of his fingers, hips chasing the friction as her moans cut through the air. 

When he looks up to find her rolling the tips of her breasts, head pulled so roughly back against the pillows that all he can see the milky white skin of her throat, being this far away doesn’t feel like enough. 

He slithers up her body as he pushes his fingers knuckle deep inside her and tries not to completely lose it at the sight of her teeth digging into her bottom lip. 

“Look at me.” 

Lyanna’s eyes fly open on command and Rickon feels all his blood rushing south at their dazed quality. 

This up close, he can see exactly the effect he has on her, how her want and her need for him translates into the swivel of her hips and the quickening of her pulse and the steady movement of her fingers on her breasts. 

And it leaves him with an uncontrollable desire to watch her unravel just so he can finally bury himself inside her, give into this feeling bubbling in his chest and spreading all around him. 

“Are you gonna come like this?” 

“Yes,” she hisses out instantly, but he still feels like the desperate one, especially with how her eyes never waver off his face, “just don’t stop.” 

“I won’t,” he promises against the skin of her throat before settling on a spot to lathe with his tongue and trying not to get completely overwhelmed by the moans of approval that filter through the silence of his room.

It’s not unlike getting buzzed, this state he’s in, the one Lyanna keeps him firmly in as she continues to writhe beneath him. He moves away from her skin to watch her again, wanting to commit every single moment to memory. 

His eyes follow the rise and fall of her chest, mapping a path down her body until he can clearly see his own hand working between her thighs. Something about it – a confirmation that he’s the one who has reduced her to a trembling mess, that it’s his fingers buried deep inside her, pushing and stretching and trying to wrench as much pleasure from her as possible – makes him unduly impatient.

“Tell me what you need.” 

He spits out through gritted teeth, hoping to seek out her eyes again, but she’s too far gone now. And then he is too when her hand slides between his palm and her skin, finding her clit and settling there. 

There doesn’t seem to be anything else for him to do but lean down and capture her mouth, swallowing her moans while they work in tandem to get her off. It doesn’t take long before he feels the telltale sign of her peak approaching; the delicious flutter of her cunt around his fingers, the flex of her hand against his; whimpers turning into pleas that skitter down his spine. 

He abandons her mouth just in time to watch her brow crease and her teeth dig into her lip again as her body tenses underneath him, all movements stilling as she’s pulled over the edge.

It’s better than anything Rickon could have pictured – what he _has_ pictured many times before – and he doesn’t cease the movement of his hand until her wrist curls around it, instructing him to stop. 

When Lyanna finally peels her eyes open, he expects lethargy, but their chocolate hue is vibrant and alert. That, paired with the pleasant flush on her cheeks and the easy satisfied smile, has an altogether different feeling spiraling through him. 

One that his mind to mouth filter is helpless against.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” 

“I am too.” She replies far too quickly, far too breathlessly to be lying, and really, Rickon doesn’t need the proof. 

They’ve never talked about it, not seriously, but it’s been there all along. This thing between them, the feelings that have withstood both distance and time. 

He has to actively remind himself that this isn’t the time for this. That all that matters is that she's here and he can finally be with her the way he’s wanted to for so fucking long. 

When Lyanna’s hand slinks down to his waist, undoing his belt and unzipping his pants, it becomes easy to focus on nothing else. 

“Take these off,” she tells him with a light laugh, “you promised.” 

His natural instinct is to argue, to snap back with a witty remark that he’d promised no such thing, but she grips him more firmly, just to prove how easily she can have him under her whim, and Rickon is scrambling off the bed, ridding himself of the remainder of his clothes. 

She rises to her knees, moving towards him until she's flush against him, and his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head when he feels her. 

Her bare skin, warm and soft, pressing into him as his cock nestles between them. She’s got him in the palm of her hand before he can form a coherent thought.

“How do you want me?” 

His hands find purchase on her hips, digging in as she pumps him, tracing the shell of his ear with her tongue. 

“However you want.”

He exhales deeply, unsure how to tell her that at this point he’ll be lucky if he doesn’t finish in her hand. 

He tightens his grip on her instead, one hand looping around her waist to settle on her ass as the other threads through her hair so he can kiss her properly. 

She opens up for him, angling her mouth and continuing to stroke him, sending bolts of heat up and down his spine. 

Her touch is so good, so fucking perfect, he has to pull away to catch a breath, collect himself long enough to remember how to use the rest of his limbs to pry her away from him and climb onto the bed besides her. 

Lyanna lets out an undignified yelp as he maneuvers her over him, and no sooner than he manages to settle her in his lap that he finds her gazing down at him with amusement. 

“What?”

He’s unable to steady his hands in any one spot on her body, trailing up her naked thighs, skimming her waist, palming her breasts. 

“Nothing,” she stutters back, balancing herself with palms pressed against the ridges of his stomach as he starts to circle her nipples. 

He can feel the wetness seeping out of her, gliding along his length. The vision of her splayed on top of him, head thrown back in ecstasy as her long hair brushes his thighs is enough for him to abandon her breasts in favor of grabbing a hold of himself and running his cock along her slit. 

Lyanna's head snaps back up, gazing intent on him as her thighs tremble around him. She doesn't leave him enough time to revel in satisfaction though, before rising on her knees just high enough for him to slip completely inside her. And try as he might, Rickon can’t keep his eyes from shutting and his mouth from spewing out a curse as she seats herself fully on him. 

He expects her to move, but she remains perfectly still, dark eyes watching him with hazy interest and keeping him suspended in this absolutely perfect moment.

“I really need you to move,” he eventually grunts out, and Lyanna smiles wickedly at him as she clenches around him.

He knows she’s done it on purpose, but he couldn’t give a fuck less, not when it feels this unreal to be inside her. He drops his hold to her thighs again, thumbs digging in as she starts to move.

“Fuck, Rickon, that’s good.” 

Her half-choked words set him aflame, body jerking beneath her, chasing the turn of her hips to find a rhythm that will work for them. They find it easily, exchanging smiles and then kisses as she leans over him, long brown hair shielding them both from everything else. 

He snakes a hand up to her breast, finding her nipple and rolling it in a way that has her tearing her lips away from him again, breathing his name as she sits up again to ride the perfect friction they're creating together.

Rickon helps her along, using his hold on her to thrust up every time she grinds down and soon all he can hear are their heavy breaths and the sounds of their bodies moving together, and all he can feel is that tension starting to build in the base of his spine. 

He’d known long before they ever got to this point that once he’s been inside her once, it would be all over for him. 

Maybe that’s why he’d held off for so long. There’s something absolutely terrifying about finding the person he knows he’s meant to be with when he hasn’t even graduated uni yet, but being here with her now, all Rickon can think about is how absolutely dumb he was for depriving them of this. 

The thought settles like a weight in his chest, sparking an urgency that has him suddenly sitting up to wrap his arms fully around her. 

The angle must do something for her, because Lyanna is suddenly trembling all around him, his name spilling from her mouth as she digs her nails into his chest and moves faster.

“Come for me.” 

He sinks his teeth into that same spot on her neck again that made her whine for him earlier, but she doesn't let him linger for too long, pushing away to catch his eyes, noses nearly touching. 

“Not without you.” She tells him breathlessly, and Rickon could swear she's talking about something else here. Something bigger. 

It makes his heart swell in a way that he has trouble understanding. 

Nothing about her has ever made sense to him and this is no different. He lets it wash over him anyway, the warmth of her gaze, the conviction in her voice, and his hand is already tangling in her hair when he pulls her into a heated kiss.

He doesn’t know what will happen in the future. Hells, he doesn’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow even, but he can at least give her this, give her this one moment like she’s given him this weekend, and hope it’s enough. 

When Rickon pulls back, he takes just a moment to brush her hair behind her ear, a look passing between them that he hopes summarizes exactly how he feels about her, and then he rolls them over until Lyanna is underneath him, leaving no room for promises of any kind. 

Only the push of his hips as he hikes her leg up higher and thrusts into her. 

A string of curses spills from her lips, spurring him on, and he fights the urge to close his eyes in favor of watching the shift of expressions on her face as he gathers her wrists and pins them over her head. 

He thinks he could stay here forever, suspended in this bubble with her, the rest of the world be damned, but he knows it’s not tenable, not with the mounting tension and the heaviness in his balls, and the way she’s clenching around him – it’s all too much and he grits his teeth against it. 

“Now, fuck, Lya I’m so close, you gotta –“

But she’s right there with him, locking her ankles behind his back and arching up. What’s left of his brain power, Rickon uses to shove his hand down between them, pressing two fingers on her clit, and it’s enough for her cry out his name as she comes for a second time. 

Rickon tries to stay alert, yearning to memorize everything about her right now. How her nails dig into his palms, how her long lashes flutter against her cheeks, how she strains for air. But he’s simply no match for the spasm of her around him, for the way she keeps clenching and squeezing him, and before he knows what’s happening, he tumbles right after her, a bolt of euphoria rendering him incoherent as he empties inside her. 

It feels over in a flash but the heat stays with him, that pleasant boneless feeling that flows through his limbs as he comes down. 

At some point, he’d released Lyanna’s hands and he finds them wrapped firmly around him, letting him melt into her as they both try to settle their heartbeats. 

Eventually, he rolls onto his back, tucking Lyanna into his side as he gazes at the ceiling.

“I hope you know I’m not letting you leave this bed the entire weekend.” 

“Not even for sustenance?” 

The warmth in her tone has him bringing her up to eye level with him, and whatever he was going to say dies on his lips when he sees just how relaxed and well-loved she looks. 

It hits him right in the chest again, where his heart is once more beating at an untenable rate. All because of the woman in his arms and the chance she's taken on him.

“We can discuss it," he responds back, hands stroking her long brown tresses, "but I think you’re stuck with me unfortunately.” 

His tone is light, teasing but he hopes she understands the gravity of what he’s saying. Hopes that she can feel it in how lovingly he gazes at her, how firmly he holds her to his sweat soaked chest, how he refuses to look anywhere other than her face. 

His thumb reaches out to swipe across her bottom lip, and then Lyanna's turning her head to press a kiss to the inside of his wrist as she smiles at him.

It’s not the first time she’s peered at him like this from beneath hooded lashes, but it’s the first time there’s a hint of shyness there, an inkling of something not quite like a promise but understanding. 

And he almost doesn’t need her to say anything but he still hangs on her every word as she rests her chin on his chest.

“I’m okay with that.” 

It might not be everything they need to talk about; in fact it doesn’t even scratch the surface but it’s a start. And Rickon finds himself smiling as he drops a kiss to her forehead and tugs the quilt from the bottom of his bed to cover them both.

Lyanna seems content enough to hoist her leg over his waist, getting comfortable next to him, and he closes his eyes, reveling in the feel of her body as the first tendrils of sleep pull him away. 

The world can indeed wait, at least until the morning. 

xxx


	2. tangled up in morning white

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We can be quick.”
> 
> When Rickon looks down at her, he can see the freckles across the bridge of her nose; can count the number of droplets clinging to her long lashes and he isn’t sure how to tell her that he wants nothing about this to be quick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the lovelies who commented and left kudos. This is me having as little self control as Rickon does around Lyanna and I hope you enjoy xoxo!
> 
> Chapter title taken from Mumford & Sons’ "Woman."

He’s checking his face in the mirror, trying to decide if he can go another day without shaving when Lyanna yanks him into the shower.

“What are you doing?” He asks mid laugh, letting her guide him under the spray.

“Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

She really doesn’t, not with how quickly she reaches down to grab a hold of him, already half-hard and wanting.

His own hand skitters up her back, tracing the curve of her spine and tugging on the wet tendrils sticking to her skin. 

“My roommates will both be up soon, you know.” 

“We can be quick.”

When Rickon looks down at her, he can see the freckles across the bridge of her nose; can count the number of droplets clinging to her long lashes and he isn’t sure how to tell her that he wants nothing about this to be quick.

That if it were up to him, he’d stay in this shower with her forever. Just her and her smooth skin and those damn eyes of hers that incite him to grip her hips and walk her back into the wall.

“Fine,” he agrees before hoisting her up and fixing her with a warning stare.

“But remember, you asked for it.”

Contrary to his promises, they haven’t actually spent the entire weekend in bed but it’s been enough for Rickon to know what she likes.

What makes her gasp and moan and on occasion even beg. He finds her breast without really thinking about it, wasting absolutely no time in twisting and pinching her nipple like he has seen her do.

Lyanna’s head immediately falls against the tile, leaving her throat exposed and too fucking appealing for him not to run his tongue along the marks he’s already left there.

“You like that?” He asks in between drags of his lips, “you like my hands on you?”

“You know I do,” her response is more of a breathless exhale than anything else and it goes straight to his cock. He squeezes her entire tit, bringing it up to his mouth to bite down on the hard peak.

Lyanna arches against him, nails digging into his shoulders as she moans into his mouth, and Rickon decides he’s done waiting.

He pulls away and swiftly moves them to the opposite side of the shower.

“Hold onto that railing for me.”

Wrapping one arm firmly under her, he uses his other to run over her slit, check to see if she’s ready for him.

When he finds her _more_ than ready, he groans against her neck, giving her only a second longer to find purchase before plunging into her.

“Rickon, _fuck_ ”

“Yeah,” he couldn’t agree more, adjusting his hold on her before thrusting deeper.

The angle has Lyanna clamping down on him, legs inching higher on his hips and he has to adjust his stance for fear of dropping her. 

“You good?” 

He asks her just in case and is rewarded with a lazy smile as Lyanna looks down at him and nods. 

“I gotta wonder though how you knew where to put me so quickly. Fucked enough in here, have you?”

There’s a glint in her eye that suggests she’s merely teasing but the hot lick of shame still grabs him.

Rickon hasn’t been a saint by any means but no one holds a candle to her. She must know that.

He pushes wet strands of hair off her face before grasping her cheek, fixing her with a pointed look that he’s damn proud of considering he’s balls deep inside her right now.

“If you think anyone else is remotely on my mind right now, you’re insane.”

He drops his hand to her hip, pulling out and thrusting back just to prove the point and revels in how her eyes grow wide as her face contorts in pleasure. 

“I just might be. Better not stop then, ya?”

She drags her nails purposefully along his scalp before tugging him up for a brief kiss.

When they pull apart, she’s smiling at him, and it’s both infectious and lethal to his heart and his senses. Rickon kisses her one more time before deciding that they’ve done enough talking and resumes fucking her right into the wall. 

This time, he doesn’t stop to ask if she’s okay; if the tile feels too cold on her skin or if he’s being too rough with her. He’s too far gone for all that, too focused on making sure all he can hear are her desperate moans and all he can feel is her cunt clenching deliciously around him. 

His name falls from her lips repeatedly - _Rickon, Rickon, Rickon_ \- evaporating into the steam around them and drowning out everything but Lyanna. The sight of her is so mesmerizing, his pace slows down enough for her to lock eyes with him again. 

“This all you got?”

Her taunt triggers that feral part of him, the one that’s more than happy to rise to the challenge. His free hand immediately snakes down to palm her breast again, leaving him smirking at her instant moan of approval. 

“Looks like what I got is more than enough.”

When he detects a ghost of a smile on Lyanna’s face, something sharp pricks at his chest. 

Her easy acceptance of him, how she’s even perhaps amused by his inability to shut the fuck up, is just a stark reminder of the world waiting for them behind the shower curtain. The one in which she’s getting on a train in less than an hour and going back to a life that doesn’t really include him.

The thought overwhelms him with need, the kind that doesn’t leave room for soft kisses and gentle caresses. If this is the last chance he has to be with her, to leave his mark on her, than he has to do it right. 

Rickon starts to move faster, with more intention, thrusting harder into her, feeling the press of her body as she ruts against him.

The wet heat of her is so alluring, so easy to get lost in, he knows he won’t last much longer.

“Touch yourself,” he tells her roughly, and groans when Lyanna lets out her filthiest moan yet. 

She drops her hand immediately down, wasting no time in circling her clit, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from doing something stupid like telling her he loves her. 

Even though that’s exactly what this is. 

Otherwise why would the vision of her, holding on for dear life, as he pounds her into the shower wall be so fucking arousing. Why would just the mere thought of her leaving and not knowing when he’ll get to see her again be so utterly painful?

It’s never been like this with anyone else.

And he doesn’t want it to be anyone else. 

The revelation – one Rickon has had many times this weekend – seems to only spur him on and he can feel the clench of her around him, the telltale sign that she’s close. 

He finally lifts his head up to look at her, face entirely lost in the haze of pleasure as her hand works furiously between them and it’s the thing that snaps all his resolve.

Rickon isn’t sure if she comes first or if he does or if they do it together but he knows for certain that the water doesn’t drown out his yell as he calls her name out and shudders inside her.

He doesn’t stop moving, not until her hand stills between them and he thinks nothing of pulling her fingers into his mouth, just to see if he can catch a taste of her, given that it might be his last for a while. 

Lyanna seems to realize it as well, letting her fingers linger on his lips, before her face turns serious and she replaces them with her mouth. 

Her kiss is nearly bruising, breathing heat into the parts of him that grow instantly cold as he pulls out and sets her down on shaky legs. 

He refuses to let her go, drawing her in until they’re pressed shoulder to hip and he can rest his cheek against her temple. 

They stay like that until the water turns unbearably cold and then Lyanna presses her palms against his chest as she leans back to look at him. 

“We should get going.”

It’s clears though that it’s the last thing she wants to do and not wanting to make it any harder on either of them, Rickon smiles encouragingly at her as he shuts the water off and pulls her out of the shower. 

He hands her a spare towel while he dries himself off, and turns to leave, but Lyanna doesn’t let him go far. 

She drapes her arms loosely around his waist and leans on his chest, cheek damp but soft, breath tickling his skin. 

It’s only a moment, just a brief hug. 

But every night after that, when he’s lying awake, paranoid about the future, it’s the memory of Lyanna in his arms, smelling like his shampoo, wrapped in his towel, that gives Rickon the smallest hope that everything will be okay.


End file.
